


what you may have lost (Prompt 2 - Sway)

by unmended



Series: FFXIVWrite2020 [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: #FFXIVWrite2020, Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Gen, Gender-Neutral Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26262766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unmended/pseuds/unmended
Summary: In a city that once was, at the bottom of the ocean floor, Emet-Selch requests a dance.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch & Warrior of Light, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Series: FFXIVWrite2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906036
Kudos: 26
Collections: Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched Bookclub FFXIV-Writes 2020 Collection





	what you may have lost (Prompt 2 - Sway)

* * *

  
  
He finds his target, technically alone as he had asked, but violating the terms of his request -  
  
They are not a mad beast, not _yet_ at any rate, and they have brought their pesky cheer troupe with them. So _why_ then, the Architect muses, are they here curled up as the sole living occupant in a three-block radius?  
  
Emet-Selch edges closer still from his place among the shadows and watches the Hero draw in a pained breath.  
  
How sad it must be for their friends to see them like this. Their shining beacon - shining far too brightly now - with the light pouring out through every crack. He can see the strain on their aether if he stares for too long. Tinged with a pale sort of… blue?

Almost able to touch his target now, the hunter strikes:  
  
"Dance with me, Hero-" Emet-Selch drawls suddenly, from over their shoulder. Whispered directly into an ear.

The Warrior of Light, no- Darkness startles and looks up from their resting spot, huddled up as they were on a too-large bench in the sunken city that both was and wasn't familiar, watching shades of giants passing by.  
  
The Ascian’s voice surprises them, expecting to be alone - _wanting_ to be alone - just for a little while. Trying to find a measure of peace as the near-constant pain made their vision swim.  
  


"W-" The Warrior hisses out a shaky breath, eyebrows pulled together in a scowl, incredulous. "With you? _now?_ I've come all this way to stop you, you've done all this work to **ruin** me and you want to _dance...?"_ They practically spit the last word out.  
 _  
_Emet-Selch meanders around the stone bench, footsteps echoing in the silence of the ghostly streets, an even smile on his face.

"Consider it a... humble request before we meet as enemies once more." His eyes take on a wicked glean. "...Or a payment for not striking your friends down where they stand - you do know you were supposed to come here **alone.** "  
  
The Warrior tenses and draws themselves up to full height, wincing, but responding to the threat. The man in front of them relents with a dismissive shake of his hand.  
  
"Oh come now Hero. Do you genuinely think I would go through all this effort to call you here just to undo it all at the drop of a hat?” He turns from them with an exaggerated twirl.

The Warrior pauses, confused, leaning slightly on the bench at their side as they slide off it.

" _Dance with me-_ " He turns again and holds out a white gloved hand to them with mockery of manners, making direct eye contact all the while.  
  
Untrusting, the Warrior walks over to the Ascian, step after careful step until they are but a pace apart. Emet-Selch wiggles his fingers expectantly.

The Warrior puts their right hand in his left, and he tucks his own right hand against their back at the waist with a gentle press. The Warrior startles again, hand pulling back but it is held fast by the gloved one it had lain upon not moments before.

  
They are pulled flush against the taller body with a jolt and, almost falling forward from tripping on their own feet, the Warrior's other hand grasps onto the ostentatious coat in front of them.  
  
A gentle tinkling from the ornamentation on the shoulders echoes out through the vacant street, now their own private stage.

"I meant what I said, Hero - just a dance..." Emet-Selch murmurs under his breath, looking down at the now-flustered embodiment of his ire. "You do know how to dance, do you not?"  


The Warrior stills for a moment and then slowly shakes their head.  
  
"I-" They pause. "No, not like this. I don't know the steps - there is no music...?"  
  
Emet-Selch draws them along into a slow waltz anyways, despite their protestations.

  
  
At first, the Ascian presses harshly, forcefully - keen to tease, to torment.

The Warrior fumbles along, scuffing their feet along the marble walkway. But their frustration soon gives way to something softer, something lighter that takes up residence in their chest, pushing out the pain of the light-poison - even if just for a moment. They begin to keep pace.

  
  
They're smiling. They’re _laughing._  
  
The Warrior falls into step properly with Emet-Selch, surprising him. If not for the gentle sway of the Warrior’s hips and stride, the man would have all but stopped moving, stopped breathing all together.

Like something out of a memory – these steps, repeated in a slow circle, the two of them pressed close like this… A gentle dance shared between two souls who know each other better than anyone else ever could.

Emet-Selch, no – _Hades_ – he draws this person, the one he holds within and without, closer still.

Stunned completely into silence for the first time in his memory, Hades simply allows himself to be drawn into their orbit. The Warrior’s head falling gently to rest on his chest as they rock back and forth in the empty street below the ocean.

  
  
The first wheeze that racks it’s way through The Warrior’s fragile mortal body is enough to jar Hades from his dream.

And oh, what a wonderful dream it was. But this is not to be, and they _cannot_ be.

The second wheeze gives way to a cough and this sends The Warrior into a fit that all but doubles them over. Hades can feel them try to hang on to him by coat and hand, but it is not enough.

  
They are not enough.

And with that, he flits away. Fleeing through a portal to another part of his manufactured city.

To leave them to be attended to by the many sets of feet pattering their way as they crumple to the ground. Calling out a name that they cannot remember even as they desperately will their soul to hang together for just a little bit longer.

Hades catches himself willing this for them, too. Despite everything.  
  
  


* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Oops I made myself sad.  
> wasn't sure where I was going to go with this prompt but it went heeeeere.
> 
> If you're of the writing persuasion or generally just want to yell about final fantasy xiv, come and join usssss in the discorrrrrd:
> 
> [Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/4gUTQta)


End file.
